


Celluloid Folly

by aika_max



Series: A Britta Tryptich [3]
Category: Community (TV)
Genre: B-Movies, F/M, Feminist Themes, First Dates, Friendship, Post-Season/Series 01, Pre-Season/Series 02
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-05
Updated: 2015-01-05
Packaged: 2018-03-08 07:00:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3199838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aika_max/pseuds/aika_max
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Abed takes Britta on a date to a horror movie festival, and she's surprised at how well they get along even when it's just the two of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Celluloid Folly

As Britta walked into the familiar darkness, she thought of the fact that she usually sat at the back of the theater. It was easier that way. When she was a smoker and really needing a puff during a long film, it would be easy to dash out to take a few drags and be back in place without missing much of the movie. It was also something of a comfort for her because she could see the audience, and her back was against the wall. She wasn't exposed. She was safe.

But she wasn't here by herself this time. He'd treated her to the movie festival, and she didn't ask him where he'd gotten his money. After the money debacle at the beginning of last fall semester, she thought better of it. Instead, she had offered to pay for the concession since that was the thing that most appealed to her feminist leanings.

As she walked to the middle row of the theater, looking for the tall man sitting in the middle seat, she looked around. The theater wasn't very full. There were kids, creepy types, a new couple making out a few rows back. Sure, it was cheaper than a room, but not by much.

"Extra butter, just for you," she said as she handed Abed his popcorn.

He turned to her, his eyes glowing with pleasure. For a moment, Britta's breath caught in her throat. She'd been so physical, so comfortable with him. But that look… well, there was some woman out there who was missing out because if Abed looked at a woman like that and meant it, she would be done for.

Britta blinked, realizing it was his celluloid joy shining through. She tamped down her wild imagination as she sat down beside him.

"The acoustics really are better here," he said, explaining his seating choice. He could have told her all about it if he thought she would have been interested.

She looked at him dubiously.

They'd gone to a horror movie fest because he said he wanted to share some of the classics with her. When Britta had asked him why he hadn't invited his BFF Troy, Abed replied that horror movies gave him nightmares. So she consented to go, but she wasn't convinced yet how much she would be enjoying everything.

Before she could make some disparaging remark, the house lights went down completely, and the horror films began. He occasionally liked to whisper things in her ear, technical points about what was happening. His breath would tickle the hair near her ear. As they got further into the movie, though, he became more interested and spoke less. His body was still semi-turned to her because of all the whispering he had done at the beginning.

It's not that Britta was scared of the frights in the movie, but Abed's seating choice was  _really_  effective. It was like she heard the monster or serial killer right behind her. During one of the moments, she reached out and squeezed his thigh for dear life.

She laughed self-deprecatingly as he calmly wrapped her hand in both of his. She glanced to him quickly, but his eyes were on the screen, not her hand. So she took her attention back to the screen. Her attention stayed with him enough to note that he held her hand for the rest of the movie.

When the lights went up for intermission, Britta blinked her long lashes and saw Abed's caramel eyes staring back at her. It was during times like this that he was so unreadable.

"I thought you'd really like horror. It actually has many feminist touches," he said.

"Yeah, how so? All I see are lots of naked women having sex with strangers and getting killed for it," she said.

"True," he agreed, "but it's usually the woman who defeats the villain and without a man's help."

She was quiet for a while as she contemplated the truth of what he said. When she could not find a hole in his argument, she nodded in acceptance.

She returned her attention to the rest of the movies at the horror fest, and she found with his help that she started to enjoy them more. He kept leaning into her as he explained some more of the things about movie crafting. She had seen him making movies, had been in at least one of them. He had also invited her to be a part of one of his films over summer, but he never had made good on the promise. She took a mental note to ask him about it later when they had more time to talk.

When all was said and done, they had spent more than eight hours in the theater. Britta was stiff as she got up from the chair.

"What do you want to do now?" Abed asked her.

She stifled a yawn. "I need to go for a walk."

"Do you want to go down to the city park in the center of town?" he suggested.

She wrinkled up her nose. "I think that's where the druggies hang out at night time. Why don't we go get a coffee. I need to perk up."

"I know a new place that uses free trade products," he said.

Britta's eyes light up as she turned to him. "You know about that? I thought I was the only one who cared about free trade."

"I know it's important to you," Abed said.

She smiled and held her arm out to him as she had done so many times when walking from class to class at Greendale. He took it with a grin and the pair went off to the coffee shop.

* * *

"Britta, do you ever miss smoking?" he asked once they were seated at a high table.

The shop they were in was rather empty of people. He spoke in low tones so as not to make the sound echo around the room.

"I miss some things," she finally answered. "I don't miss the smoke itself, just the habitual action of doing something. That's why I took up knitting. I had to keep my hands busy."

"Oh, that explains it," he said. "You're so much better at doing it now than you were when you gave me this… I don't know what it is."

Abed pulled a square out of his jacket pocket. The object seemed to be a pocket of itself as if she had knitted a pita bread.

"It's for your camera lenses," Britta said. "I know you don't want to scratch them."

He looked up from her knitted square and studied her. "That's one of the nicest things anyone has ever done for me. I need to thank you."

"Well, if you could save me from the embarrassment after telling Jeff Winger I loved him, that would be a great place to start. But it's also impossible," she sighed.

"I'm not here to talk about Jeff. I'm here with you," he said.

She laughed uncomfortably. "Why are you looking at me like a beige preying mantis? Troy really was right about that."

"I know you, Britta. You're complicated, and you're one of the most fascinating people I've ever met," he said.

"Okay, well now you're just embarrassing me," she protested.

"Am I? I don't mean to be. Sorry I said it," Abed replied and looked off into the distance.

"Look," she said after a pause. "Most people aren't so nice. They always want something. It's hard to let down my guard."

He looked at her again, his head tilting to the side as he considered her. "I don't want anything you can't give. You'll approach me if you ever want anything."

She protested. "What? Like some of your strange girls with daddy issues who approach you first because you're out of reach? I resent that remark, Abed!"

"I'm not out of reach, Britta. I'm sitting here with you, and we're having coffee," he said. Then he waved the waitress over to fill his cup.

Britta sipped her coffee in silence, enjoying the flavor of a good conscience. While she was not truly sure the free trade goods actually tasted different, they were so easy for her to like.

"Abed," she began unsurely after a while, "do you actually like me?"

"Of course, I do," he said too quickly for her.

She winced. "No, I mean, do you  _like_  me?"

"The way you like Jeff Winger?" he asked without answering.

Britta put her hand to her temple. She felt too embarrassed to speak. Abed reached out and took her fingertips in his and stroked them a while.

"I like you, Britta," he said.

"I like you, too," she replied.

"Then I think that's a good place to start," Abed said with a pleased smile


End file.
